The Greatest of Them All
by jaffacake1
Summary: Hermione's thoughts at Ron's funeral. Angsty fluff. Not happy fluff. Do not be fooled... but read anyway. Please?


Angsty, sappy fluff.  Gratuitous sap, really.  Cheesy in places too.  Sorry.  But don't let that deter you!  Read on, and don't forget to review… I own nothing.

The Greatest of Them All 

Hermione took a deep breath and opened the door.  She peered around at all the people in black and stifled a small sob.  Slowly she walked up the aisle until she saw Mrs Weasley motioning to a seat next to herself.  Hermione took it gratefully.  It seemed far longer than three weeks (22 days to be precise) had passed since that fateful day.  She still couldn't believe that it was true.  Ron was really gone.  No more jokes at her expense.  No more twinkling blue eyes when he knew he had her beaten.  No more turning the air blue when his Potions homework was too hard.  No more craning her neck to talk to him, or to hug him, or to…

She buried her head in her hands and cried.

*       *       *       *       *

She couldn't stand it much longer:  the faked smiles, the nervous chatter.  It was driving her crazy.  She found herself heading up the Weasleys' stairs towards Ron's bedroom.

She saw the sign on the door, same as it had been eleven months ago when she had last seen it: 'Ronald's Room'.  Pushing the door open carefully, so as not to disturb any of his belongings, she entered.  The room was still bright orange, but this time there was no red hair to clash with it.  She wandered over to the bed and sat down.

 It felt oddly uncomfortable, as though she was sitting on bricks.  She felt around underneath herself, and her hand settled on a notebook.  She pulled it out.  It was small, orange and yellow, with scrawled notes all over the outside.  She picked her way through all the 'Chudley Cannons Forever', 'Dungbombs Rule', and even one very small 'RW 4 HG', until she saw what looked like a label.

Ron Weasley's Journal.  Touch at your own peril.  Fred, George, that means you too.  If lost, please return to: The Burrow, Ottery St Catchpole, Devon, ENGLAND.

It couldn't hurt to open it could it?  They were best friends, they didn't have any secrets, did they?  At least, not any more.  A small sensible part of her told her not to read it, that she wouldn't like it if it were her.  A larger, more curious part of her told her to go ahead.  She started to open it cautiously, ready to slam it shut at the first sign of a curse.  When it was opened, she was surprised to see writing.  She had expected invisible ink, or maybe pages that absorbed the words, or even a password.  She marvelled at the ease of it all and began to read.

She read about their first year, his rather unflattering first impression of her, and about their adventures trying to find the Philosopher's Stone.  She read about their second year, and about all the things she had missed whilst she was lying petrified in the hospital wing.  She read through all their years together, all the memories they had shared, until she came to the final page, which read:

'I hate being me.  I'm nothing special.  All my life, there's been someone better than me.  All my siblings have something to distinguish themselves – Bill is the oldest, the firstborn son.  As if that isn't enough, he's cool too and he was a Head Boy.  Everyone loves Bill.  And then Charlie was a Quidditch genius, not to mention wonderful with animals.  Percy, well… Percy was perfect.  Top of his year, prefect and Head Boy, even followed Dad's footsteps into the Ministry.  Fred and George are funny and probably the most popular boys in their year.  And people call them by their right names.  Everyone loves them too.  Ginny's the only girl, the baby of the family.  And she's smart, and pretty, and brave.  I'm just the nobody.  The stupid one, the short-tempered one.  The one with all the wonderful brothers.  

As if it isn't bad enough already, my best friends are brilliant too.  Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived.  He defeated the worst dark wizard in a century before his second birthday.  He's faced him loads of times since, and probably will face him again soon.  Hermione is, well… Hermione.  Top of her year, Head Girl, absolutely brilliant mind.  Quite stunning too.  I'm just the faithful sidekick.  The one who always gets knocked out at the start of the fight.  

I'm fully aware of the fact that I'm nothing special, but I do have a name, and I'd like people to use it.  I'm fed up with being referred to as "the tall one, y'know, next to Harry Potter."  I am – Gotta go, Harry's calling, he says it's urgent.  When isn't it?'

"He didn't know how wrong he was," thought Hermione sadly.  "Many a time, Harry and I would have died if it hadn't been for his bravery."  Her eyes filled with tears as she thought of the events leading up to his death.

*~*

The three of them stumbled blindly through the forest, twigs clawing at them, holding them back.  Still they ran on, for on their heels was one of the most feared wizards of all time, Lord Voldemort.  They ran into a clearing and stood panting, prepared to fight, side by side until the end.

_Lord Voldemort, having risen at the end of their fourth year was now an especially tall, skeletal man.  His face was chalk white, and his red eyes were like those of a snake.  He followed them into the clearing, seemingly alone, but all three knew that the surrounding Forest was full of Death Eaters, just waiting to make their move._

_He spun around to face them, his eyes glinting maliciously._

_"So… the three of you, all together in your final hour.  How touching.  Your parents died to save you, Potter, are you going to let your friends do the same?"_

_"You leave my parents out of this," Harry spat._

_"Oh, don't worry, I will.  This is just between you… and me."_

_"A-and us!" Ron stammered, trying to look fearsome._

_"Oh yes, how could I ever forget you?" he sneered back._

_All three of them gripped their wands tightly._

_"As enjoyable as this is, I have more pressing business" Voldemort smirked._

_Ron and Hermione started to move towards Harry._

_"Avada Kedavra!" he cried, his wand pointed at Harry.  Simultaneously, there were two cries, and two bodies flew in front of Harry in a desperate attempt to shield him.  Ron, being at the front, took the full blast._

_It all seemed to happen in slow motion, as Hermione peered dazedly from her position on the floor, and saw an acid green flash of light rebound off Ron and hit Lord Voldemort straight in the stomach.  Harry seemed to almost glow as the Dark Lord shrivelled with an ear splitting shriek, pinholes of light breaking through him, causing more agonising screams.  Finally, after what seemed an age, he disintegrated.  Lord Voldemort was defeated._

_Harry and Hermione scrambled towards Ron, not noticing the blood mingling with the tears on their faces.  Hermione reached him first and hauled him onto her lap._

_"Ron!  Ron!  Wake up Ron!  It's all over!  Voldemort's gone!"_

_Ron did not move._

_"Ron!  Please wake up!  We need you," Hermione cried, her voice breaking over the last few words._

_Harry put a steadying hand on her arm and looked at her.  They both knew it was no use.  Ron was dead._

_"Ron…" Hermione whispered.  She threw her arms around his neck and sobbed.  Harry curled up beside her, his head on Ron's stomach, tears streaming down his muddy face.  They stayed like that until morning, when they were found._

*~*

Hermione took deep calming breaths, and wiped the tears from her face.  She had an idea.  She searched around Ron's room for a quill, and soon found one.  She turned to the final page and added a postscript.

'He may not have been the cleverest wizard.  He may not have been the most popular.  He may not even have been the sportiest. But when it came down to it, he was the noblest.  He died to save his friends, and indeed, the whole of the wizarding world.

He truly was the greatest of them all.

            Hermione Granger'

Hermione slipped the book back under his bedclothes, and backed out of the room.  She shut the door carefully behind her and murmured something so quietly that no one but herself could have heard.

"Goodbye Ron."

And with that, she slowly walked away.

Tada!  I know parts made no sense… but I wrote it aaaggggeeessss ago, I was very young.  Take pity on me and review?  Please?


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